


C'mon, Let's Go

by FrostWolfGirl



Category: My So-Called Life
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 02:49:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20418668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostWolfGirl/pseuds/FrostWolfGirl
Summary: Picking up directly following the last episode, Angela drives off with Jordan.He's a man of few words, but can he find the right ones to keep her?





	C'mon, Let's Go

**Author's Note:**

> I had a sudden need to write these two. I hope you like it. 
> 
> Work un-beta'd.
> 
> I have another My So-Called Life WIP here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20418731/chapters/48438059

“Don’t worry, your mom said it would be okay…” he says with that cool, smooth timbre in his voice. The voice he uses only for me. He puts me in his car, in Red as he calls her, and for a long silent moment, all I can do it look at Brian.

He’s like a lost puppy and it kinda makes me sick. Like, I just want to shake him, yell in his face to speak up, dammit! Be brave! Tell me you wrote the damn letter so we can all move on! But he never admits to it, and I don’t think he ever will. He probably does love me, because he knows I love Jordan.

Jordan’s driving and after a few moments of cold winter quiet, he reaches over and takes my hand. I feel that electricity all over again, and that makes me sick too because this is the hand he touched Rey with too. There’s not a part of his body that hasn’t touched hers and I’m sick and angry and hurt and in love all at once.

I want to scream. I want to tell him to pull the damn car over right now because I don’t _care_ what my mom said was okay, he didn’t exactly ask _me _if it was okay. Instead, my hand remembers his hand and our fingers weave together. My hand misses his hand, it feels right at home there. I glance up, in the dim light of the passing street lamps and he smiles, just a little. It sets a million butterflies lose in my heart. He’s smiling because he’s holding my hand. And I’m smiling without realizing it.

Because I love him.

I’ve always loved him.

I think I was born to love him.

He doesn’t turn on the radio. I don’t either. I think for a moment we just needed to be quiet together, to listen to each other breathing. He’s driving as if he knows exactly where he’s going, but I don’t recognize the streets anymore. I’m too focused on his hand in mine and wondering if my heart is here in the car or if I left it on the sidewalk outside my house.

He looks so calm, Jordan. So relaxed. His eyes are almost sparkling. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him sparkle before.

“You’re glowing,” I say before realizing I’ve spoken.

“I’m what?” he asks, a smile breaking out over his soft face. He glances at me for a moment. “Glowing?”

“Yeah, like…” I stammer. I shake my head, embarrassed that I’ve spoken. “I don’t know. Never mind. It’s… it’s stupid.”

He chuckles. Actually, and properly chuckles. He lifts our joined hands and brings mine up to his mouth, planting on the back of my hand a soft kiss. It makes my breath hitch. Jordan Catalano has never kissed my hand. Not ever. It’s so out of his character I’m not sure what to even make of it. Like, when did he step out of the pages of a Harlequin Romance novel and into my life? Up until now he seemed to enjoy my company to the point of indifference.

“What was that?” I ask with a small laugh.

“What was what?” he asks in return, snickering a little through his nose. He looks… so different. He’s not just glowing, he’s radiating. What’s going on in his mind? He lets go of my hand so he can make a left turn. My hand is suddenly lonely, empty, cold. It’s how I’ve felt ever since we broke up, really. Even more so since I found out what he’d done…

Sure, we weren’t together. Sure, they were drunk. Sure, it was a mistake. Sure. Sure. Sure…

But it doesn’t stop my heart from hurting. It doesn’t stop my mind from asking questions. Am I really what he wants? Can I be the kind of girl he needs me to be? Is he coming back right now just because I’m forgiving, is this all just a trap? How long before he tries to get me in bed again? Can he even respect that boundary yet? I want to give it to him; I want him to be my first. I just… don’t want to do it in an empty house, or in his car, or in a boiler room. I want it to be… somewhere else. I don’t know where.

My preoccupied mind is silenced half a second later. He’s turned left and his hand it in mine again. He gives my hand a squeeze and breathes out deeply, as if he’s sighing out in relief.

“Are you cold?” he asks me gently. “You can turn up the heat, if you want.”

In all our time together, he’s literally never let me adjust the heat in his car. He let me drive. Once. And that was an ulterior motive. I wonder if he’s trying it again, giving me a chance to feel special so he can have sex with me. 

“Seriously?” I ask softly, the realization of this isn’t lost on me.

“Yeah,” he says peaking at me for a moment. He looks so vulnerable in this moment, and I’m sure the shock is written all over my face. He looks like he wants to say more, but doesn’t. He just returns his attention to the road and keeps driving.

I don’t move because I’m afraid to for a second. Is this a test? Will he change his mind when he realizes I’m touching the settings on his car? Will he change his mind about me? About this moment? Will I?

I gulp, then reach over and turn up the heat two clicks. Just two. No more. I like it warm, but I don’t want to turn it into a sauna in here. I watch him the entire time I’m changing the heat setting. When I turn the dial that smile comes back. It’s like he’s connected to the car somehow. That my touching the car is touching him, like he can feel it through the steering wheel.

“Where are we going?” I ask softly.

“It’s a surprise,” he answers. He blinks and glances at me for a second. “You like surprises, right?”

“Depends on the surprise,” I admit, my tone a bit colder than I mean it to be. He actually flinches a little and I feel like I just kicked a puppy that only wanted kisses. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that…” My voice is softer and I trail off.

His thumb absently runs over mine and it makes me shiver. He doesn’t touch me like this. This is more affection and intimacy than Jordan’s ever afforded me and I don’t know how to begin to handle it.

“It’s cool,” he says quietly. “I get it… I haven’t really got a good, like, track record. Or whatever.”

_Holy. Shit. _

I gulp and watch him for a long quiet moment. He’s not glowing anymore, he’s gone submissive. I can see it written all over him. I broke this sweet moment with my tone. My uncontrollable tone that gives away my heart before I’m ready. This time I squeeze his hand and I hear his breath hitch like mine did.

“We have a lot to talk about,” I say absently.

“Yeah…” he trails off. “Can we, like, just be together for a while longer?”

“Yeah,” I answer. He exhales again, this time even his shoulders relax and I can tell that he just needs this moment with me. And maybe I do too. I’ve missed him, I’ve missed his car, I’ve missed his smell.

We drive on through the night. He never let’s go of my hand again, not even to turn the wheel. I wonder for a moment if he’s doing this because he needs me to be an anchor or what? The houses begin to thin out, I see a “Thanks for visiting! Come back soon!” and I know we’ve left the sleepy suburb and are going outside of town. I wonder if maybe he’s kidnapping me. And if he is, do I care?

For the last year all I can think of is getting out of here, leaving town and not looking back. Especially now, knowing that the guy I love and my best friend have had sex. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to leave town with Jordan, but maybe we are. Maybe we’re just running away and we’ll pretend like nothing ever happened.

He turns down a dirt road and I turn to watch him for a moment. I’m about to open my mouth to ask, but he, like, senses it or something. “We’re almost there,” he says, another squeeze to my hand. “Please, just trust me, kay? I need this.”

He _needs_ this. And I need him.

“Okay,” I nod and look back out the window. It’s pitch black now. The only thing lighting up Jordan’s face is the lights on his dashboard. The car starts up a hill, it switches back a few times before the trees yawn open and Jordan stops the car. He turns off the headlights and I let my vision adjust.

“Oh, wow,” I murmur.

Before me is an overlook and just beyond the barrier I can see our whole little town, all lit up against the night sky. There’s not a cloud in the sky. It’s that kinda crisp winter cold that chills you to the bones, but looking out at the stars in the sky and the lights of our sleepy town, I can see why he brought me here.

“Yeah,” he says, sitting back in his seat. We’re quiet for a moment longer before he speaks again. “C’mere…” He turns off the car and steps out. Before he can come around the open my door, I’m out of the car too. But he’s on the passenger side quickly and takes my hand once more.

He takes two steps backwards, his eyes lingering on me for a second. “Don’t, like, walk off the ledge,” I say with a smile.

He grins a little and turns to lead me to the guardrail. He steps over and then takes both my hands to help me over too. It’s so confusing because he’s never been so thoughtful about me before. I wonder where this is all coming from and then I scold myself for not being able to just enjoy it.

He sits on the opposite side of the guardrail and pulls me close, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. His eyes scan the lights in the sky. His breath makes clouds on the air. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip and then…

“I come here when I need to think,” he says. “It’s kinda, like, this special place, I guess. No one really knows where it is.”

“How’d you find it?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, a shy smile on his face. “I just… did. I was driving and then I was here.”

“It’s beautiful,” I say, looking out at the night sky.

“Yeah,” he says. “You are.” It takes a moment for those words to register and when they do, I realize he’s not looking at the sky anymore, he’s looking at me. I look at him and it’s so clear in that instant that he isn’t doing this because he just wants sex. The look in his eyes says so much more.

I expect him to come in for a kiss, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just bows his head and presses his forehead against mine, closing his eyes and breathing in slowly. “Angela?” he whispers.

“Yeah?” I whisper back.

“I just wanted to say your name…” he sighs, his lips turning up in a smile. “I know you’re mad at me. I deserve you being mad at me. I’m not a good guy, Angela. I’m stupid. I have nothing to offer you.”

“Jordan…” I say, trying to stop him. But he pulls away and the look in his eyes stops me from continuing my thought.

“No, I need to say this, please,” he goes on. He’s drawn away just enough that we can make eye contact. I go quiet. He always says I talk too much. Well, now it’s his turn, I guess. Maybe I rubbed off on him a little. He brings a hand to my cheek, cradling my jaw and his thumb brushes my lips. He hasn’t kissed me yet, I can tell he wants to. “I don’t have anything to offer you,” he repeats. “I’m not, like, good at anything. I just barely made grades this semester. And, like, if I get held back one more time I’ll be expelled. I’m stupid, Angela. There’s no way around it.”

His blue eyes bore into me. My heart is doing summer salts in my chest. He’s never said this much, he’s never been this vulnerable. Not since I figured out he couldn’t read…

“I’m a piece of shit, Angela,” he whispers and for the first time since I’ve met him, I think I can hear a lump in his throat. Suddenly my eyes are stinging and I know what’s happening. I’m not going to make it through this, I’m going to break down in tears and cry harder than I’ve ever cried in my life.

“But you… You make me want to be more.”

That does it and I feel a sob break through my lips. My mouth stretches out into a frown as my vision blurs slightly. He cradles my face in both his hands then. There’s something happening in his eyes, I can’t figure it out.

“It’s like… When you aren’t near me, like, I can’t breathe or something,” he goes on. And oh, I know that feeling all too well. Tears slip from my eyes and down my cheeks, getting caught by his thumbs. His eyes start to well up too. Jordan Catalano is actually showing emotion! “There’s, like, a weight on my chest. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I’m just this, like, zombie or something. And then I see you, my heart wants to jump out of my chest…”

He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, his nervous habit I’ve come to love.

“Angela, I fucked up. I did something unforgivable. I betrayed you and then lied to you ‘cause I didn’t really write you that letter. But I didn’t have words, I never have words. I brought you here ‘cause when I’m here, suddenly I feel like I know all the right things to say…”

He breathes out like he’s running out of steam. I’m crying, openly. And his breath hitches a little as he leans in. “I don’t want to live my life wondering what could have happened or asking myself ‘where’s Angela?’, ‘Is she okay?’, ‘Is she happy?’ I want to know the answer to those questions.”

“What are you saying?” I ask, my voice shaking.

“I’m asking you to stay with me,” he says without skipping a beat.

“For how long?”

“Forever…”

We’ve reached the point of no return. He’s put himself out there and if I deny him, I know I’ll never see him again. In the two seconds it takes me to form a sentence, I know I’ll say yes. But I have to ask one thing first.

“You can’t, like, _know _that…” I begin.

“I can,” he cuts me off. He wraps one arm around me, drawing me as close as he can. “I do. I can’t lose you again. You’re the best part of my life.”

The dam breaks. A sob shakes my entire body as my head drops, my eyes close and I just let go of it all. He doesn’t even hesitate. Jordan wraps both arms around me, pulls me into his chest and just holds me in a way he’s never held me before. His head is propped on mine, he rubs my back in a circle and just breathes me in. Somewhere in this moment, my arms wrap around his waist and I just hold onto him for dear life. I feel like I’m drowning.

It’s all too much. He’s said more words to me tonight than he probably ever has since we met. He’s said all the things I’ve always longed for him to say and he’s done it all on his own. Could it be that he really does care about me? He must. As I’m sobbing into his chest, I decide to trust him. To trust in this moment and to just… let it go.

Being angry is exhausting. Being in pain is too. I know I’ll have to talk to Rey, but I can call her tomorrow. Tonight, it’s for me and Jordan. My sobs quiet, I begin to still, but I don’t pull away. I just stay there in his arms for a long time.

“I love you, Angela,” he whispers to my hair.

The confession makes me look up at him and I can see he’s been crying too. His eyes are a different kind of red then I’ve seen before, his cheeks are wet. I gently dry one with my sleeve and his face leans into my hand. His eyes, bright blue and vulnerable, are pleading with me. They’re louder than his confessions, louder than his declarations.

“I love you, too, Jordan,” I whisper back to him.

He surges forward, kissing me as if it’s the first time. Maybe it is. Maybe tonight we can both agree to let things live in the past and start over again. We can love each other freely and openly and just… be together. His lips mold with mine, but he doesn’t push my mouth open too wide. He doesn’t shove his tongue down my throat, it’s just an open-mouthed kiss that says more than he has in the last ten minutes. It’s everything he’s said and more, all rolled into one deep kiss. He makes a soft sound, almost like a whimper and I swallow it.

When he pulls away it’s not far, it’s just enough for us to catch our breaths. His forehead against mine, our eyes closed, our arms around each other.

“Are you cold,” he asks, when a breeze flutters through our hair.

“No,” I answer.

“Me either…”

We stay there, holding each other for what seems like years. We don’t talk any more, we don’t need to talk. He’s said all he’s going to say on the topic, and I’ve forgotten the English language, it seems. We kiss until our lips are swollen, until we can’t kiss anymore and still, we keep kissing.

“I should take you home,” he whispers between kisses.

“Not yet…” I whisper.

I’m not sure when we move back into his car, but we do and end up kissing in there for even longer. The radio’s on now, the heats fogging the windows. We don’t care, we’re just together. He doesn’t try to undress me; he doesn’t try to push me for more. He just kisses me like he’s never kissed me before, like it might be the last time he kisses me...

“I’ll wait,” he tells me. “Until you’re ready. I won’t ask anymore.”

We stop kissing for a moment so I can study him.

“Seriously?” I ask. All he can do it nod and run his tongue over his bottom lip. He means it, I can read him like a book now. “I don’t wanna do it in a car, or in some abandoned house or something.”

“I know,” he nods again, gulps.

“Or a boiler room.”

“I know.”

“I’m ready.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know,” I shrug. I don’t. I haven’t thought that through. I just know that after everything he’s said, after all that’s happened, the fact that we’re both actually in love means I’m ready for him to take that next step with me. “Somewhere nice? Like, private.”

“Kay,” he says. “I know where. Do you trust me?”

Do I? Do I trust Jordan Catalano? He’s never asked me that before and I’ve asked myself that so many times. Every time I’ve answered that I can’t, that I shouldn’t. But tonight, and maybe forever?

“Yes.”

The End


End file.
